Having a moment

Yesterday we were moving about the house gathering our things, preparing for an outing in the fields in our 'mule', Rusty. Linda became gone for a while. I finished my list, and Linda came back into the kitchen, with an apologetic 'Sorry, I zoned out for a minute'. I mentioned that it happened to me, too, down here at The Farm. Both of us lapse into a meditative stupor at times, feeling the house, sensing the fields arcing off to the horizon, remembering Pop and Mama, remembering Hank and Evelyn, remembering our own times here, or just listening to the quiet.

I like to call these 'visitations', because that is what they are for me. Pauses, commas in the day, where we have these conversations with - who? Certainly The Farm has always been a healing place, a place to come to experience recovery and renewal; so the people who have loved The Farm have also spoken often about the 'good spirits' or 'good vibes' that they encounter here.

Maybe this place is some kind of wonderful crossroads, a juncture in the switchbox, a warp in the timezone, where anyone who is here can easily be with their ancestors, connect with the Universe, merge with their unconscious, feel Jesus, know God. Being here at this faucet in the metaphysical pipeline, we get to sip as we need to during the day, pausing as the woods animals do for a bit of water in our rounds.

This is most strongly felt in the mornings. Both of us join after waking, on the Porch in the summer or the Living Room when the mornings are cold, for coffee and breakfast. We bring something to read, and sometimes have a conversation, but more often we both end up with a blank stare, pausing, having a long meditative comma. This goes on for 2 hours some days, until 10. Have some coffee, have a read, pause. Visit.